


Easy For You

by Crave



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Anal Play, Anal Sex, BDSM, Bucky's Dad Is An Asshole, Chastity Device, Cock & Ball Torture, Dom Bucky Barnes, Dom/Sub AU, Dom/sub, Enthusiastic Consent, Heavy BDSM, M/M, Masochism, Nurses, Orgasm Denial, Painful Sex, Sadism, Spanking, Sub Steve Rogers, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-06
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-11-12 07:16:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18006296
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Crave/pseuds/Crave
Summary: They had played at it when they were children, Bucky pretending to be the dom and telling Steve what to do, but they grew out of it eventually and then Gina Spirelli kissed Bucky on the cheek in the fifth grade and Bucky had decided he and Steve were too old for that.Only now it wouldn't be pretend, Steve would really be Bucky’s. And Steve wouldn't just do what Bucky told him, not if he really didn't want to. But what if he did want to? If he-





	1. The Test

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is basically two lovingly rendered kink scenes held together by a Dom/sub AU, so big shout out to common-white-dude for helping me wrangle it into a respectable fic.
> 
> Also big thanks to my artist Cassandrafisher, if you want to send some love the art page for this fic is here https://archiveofourown.org/works/17867141

 

 

“Have you ever had any sexual contact?” the nurse asked.

Bucky shook his head, thinking about getting his mouth on Gemma Clarke for the first time over the summer.

The nurse sighed.

“I'm just going to tick the boxes, I'm not going to tell your mother,” she said. “The blood test is important but it's not going to be any good if you lie to me.”

“I… yeah one time.”

“Nothing apart from that?”

“No, or… well… that was the first time for real.”

The nurse gave him a look but didn't push. Bucky’s eyes flicked to the wall of the nurse's office. Behind her head was a picture of a fully-clothed submissive kneeling at the foot of her dom, who had his hand in her hair and was feeding her an orange segment. The words aftercare: remember your vitamin c were scrawled in cursive across the bottom.

“And how did you feel afterward? Did you feel closer?” the nurse asked.

“I took care of her if that's what you mean? I made sure she was safe and warm like they say in the pamphlets.”

Bucky shrugged and squirmed a little in his chair under her gaze, his eyes flicked to the poster again. He'd done his best with what he knew about being a dom, which was to take whatever his dad did and do the opposite.

“That's good,” the nurse said wryly, almost rolling her eyes, “but I asked about how you felt. Sometimes doms can feel sad too, there are things that can make them feel too although it's not in all the pamphlets.”

“You mean top drop,” Bucky said, his throat felt sticky like he couldn't quite breathe right.

“It's more common than you might have been told.”

“Maybe for girls.”

“And it's more likely at higher levels,” the nurse continued.

That didn't sound right but Bucky didn't say anything. All the high-level doms Bucky knew were assholes like his dad, and he didn't want to be anything like them. Bucky’s dad would never drop, he was too busy setting pointless and impossible tasks for Bucky's mother and then punishing her for failing them.

The nurse looked at him hard for a second.

“I’m going to list the five most common symptoms of a drop and you can nod or shake your head if you've had any of these: sudden feelings or fear or panic.”

Bucky pictured Gemma laid out on her bed, looking nervous and flushed, the black waves of her hair spread out around her head, her chastity belt lying on the pale pink sheets beside an old childhood teddy bear.

“Nod or shake your head,” the nurse said.

He’d spanked Gemma a little and she’d moaned. But coming down afterward he’d felt wrong, unsure about whether she'd liked it or just pretended and he’d known he couldn't ask her or she'd think he was an idiot.

“Do you want to know your dominant level?”

Bucky nodded. He was worried that if he opened his mouth he might throw up. His throat still felt sticky and there was no saliva in his mouth. He thought about his mother’s motionless face when his dad spoke to her sometimes, her rigid jaw, her mouth a thin red line like a cut.

“The sooner you give me the answers the sooner you can get your results. I have to fill in the whole thing or it doesn't count and without a level, you won't be able to buy a house, obtain a marriage license, or take any kind of government job.”

Bucky forced his tongue to unglue itself from the roof of his mouth.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, “I had… I had that one. The, uh, I was scared and-”

Thankfully she didn't force him to go on.

“Any feelings of inadequacy, like you didn't do enough or did too much?” she asked.

Bucky curled his hand into a fist and then uncurled it slowly. He nodded.

“Were you anxious about separating from your partner or afraid that they might leave?”

Bucky nodded again, feeling wretched.

“Did you feel an abnormal amount of fatigue or exhaustion?”

Bucky had to force himself to nod.

“Were you angry or irritated with your partner?”

Bucky was relieved to be able to shake his head at that one.

“It's okay if you did,” the nurse said.

“No, I wasn't mad at her, I just felt… I was worried I hadn't given her what she wanted.”

“What do you think a sub is supposed to want?” she asked him, eyes fixed on his.

“I mean I guess they're supposed to want to make their dom feel good?” Bucky said, wishing it didn't sound like a question.

“I know that’s what they say in the movies,” said the nurse, “but it’s more than that. A submissive trusts their dominant completely and gives themselves over to their dom’s control.”

Well that was a crock of shit. Nobody trusted Bucky's dad if they knew what was good for them and getting Steve to do anything was challenging enough, even when it was something Steve wanted to do.

It was surreal in some ways. Bucky knew Steve was a sub. The tests didn't lie, and anyway, Steve blushed bright and pink as a dame when the domme girls spoke to him. But it didn't seem to square with the guy Bucky knew. All the subs in the comics and the movies were quiet and soft and they did what their dom wanted without hesitation, liked to do it.

Steve was absolutely nothing like that. He was a stubborn son of a bitch and that was the truth. Self-righteous and angry enough to spit most of the time, always getting in fights even though most of the guys in the school could have picked him up one-handed. That fire was supposed to be what a dom was like. Hell, it was supposed to be what Bucky was like.

“My buddy Steve is a submissive,” Bucky said, surprising himself by opening his mouth, “but he never seems to want to do what anyone tells him to.”

The nurse gave Bucky a careful look.

“Sometimes,” she said, “it isn't enough for a sub to do things that are good for their dominant. With some subs, what they do has to be good full stop. The dom has to be worth listening to and taking orders from.”

Bucky turned this over in his head for a few seconds.

“So Steve is waiting for someone good enough for him to listen to?”

The nurse shrugged, which Bucky interpreted as a yes.

She asked a bunch of other questions after that and they made him blush right down to his toes but they were more like he'd expected.

Did he want to tie anyone up? Yes. Physically punish them? Yes. Whip, strike, paddle, or otherwise injure them for his own pleasure? Yes. Embarrass or humiliate them? Yes. Blindfold them? Yes. Make them cry? Yes. Make them vomit? No. Make them scream in pain? Maybe? No. Yes. Control their diet? No. 

(He thought about when Steve got sick and sometimes forgot to eat)

Yes. Control their environment? Yes. Control their routine? Yes. Control their work or social life? No. Control their access to money? No. Give them money? Yes. Watch them spend his money? Yes. Control their orgasms? Yes. Make impossible demands? No. (Fuck no, he wasn't anything like that asshole). Make demands that were challenging or difficult to achieve? Yes.

And on and on. He said yes to more things than he said no to and it was a long list. Pages and pages.

But of course, it finished with another round of harder questions.

“Should your submissive obey all of your orders?”

He knew he should say yes, that he was supposed to say yes, but he shook his head. The nurse looked a little surprised.

“Would your ideal submissive accept your authority without question?”

He shook his head again, and her eyebrows rose higher.

“Is it acceptable for a submissive to be bratty, stubborn, or manipulative?”

He nodded and the nurse looked at him carefully for a second.

“I know sometimes in novels they make it look romantic for a submissive to be a little bit bratty before she submits,” the nurse said carefully, “but this question is about your whole life. How would you feel having your orders questioned all the time?”

In all the pulps those kinds of subs eventually accepted their doms and stopped fighting. Bucky always lost interest after that.

“I don’t uh-” he paused, “I don't like the idea that they're pretending, going along with what I say just because I say so. I don't want it to be just acting. If I ask them to do something and they hate it, I want to know. I don't want to feel like I tricked them into it somehow just because I'm their dom.”

“So a submissive should make demands of their dominant?”

“I think a dom should be good enough to be worth bothering with,” Bucky said, thinking yes. “If I'm not good enough, I'd want to know.”

The nurse’s look was definitely pitying, but she ticked the boxes without saying anything. She took a sample of his blood then let him go.

Bucky stumbled out of the room half in a daze, pressing a cotton ball to his arm.

Steve was waiting outside. His cheeks were pink and his hair was a mess - he'd clearly been running his hands through it.

“How did yours go?” Bucky asked.

“It was okay,” Steve said, though he didn't quite meet Bucky's eyes.

“Well I hated mine,” Bucky told him.

Steve wheezed out a laugh. “What do you think you got?”

“No clue. You?”

“Mm…” Steve made a noise that could have meant anything. Some days Bucky could pry the truth out of Steve with enough persistence but most of the time there was no point. Bucky dropped it.

The rest of the day Bucky just ran through the questions over and over again, second-guessing his own answers, playing through what the nurse had said. Maybe wanting a sub who didn't follow rules was wrong somehow? Maybe Bucky was a switch and nobody had noticed and now he'd have to go to some kind of remedial submissive class and smile sweetly while some asshole dom bossed him around.

The weekend was no better. Bucky spent the whole thing in a daze and his mind kept going back to the test. To the stern face of the nurse.

By Monday, when the seniors filed into home room and saw the envelopes piled up on the desk, Bucky was a mess and had barely slept in three days. Looking around at the pale faces of his classmates and the dark circles under their eyes Bucky knew he wasn't the only one who’d worried.

Their home room teacher was feigning ignorance. Mr Weaver insisted on taking attendance and seemed to be toying with the class, leading several of the more dramatic students to put their heads down on their desks and groan in frustration.

Bucky could not keep still in his seat. His whole body felt electrified and he would find himself hunching forward or tilting back in his chair without noticing how he’d got there.

He glanced over at Steve and of course, Steve was fearless, staring right ahead at the teacher with his posture almost relaxed. He looked well rested. Bucky had no idea where Steve dredged up all his courage from because Bucky was on the verge of a breakdown.

After roll call, Mr Weaver smiled a cruel little smile and fake-coughed.

“As I have done with every senior year before yours, I recommend taking these home unopened and talking them through with your parents. I also remind you that these are legal documents so do not damage them,” he said.

“I will call your names and you will come up to collect your results,” Mr Weaver continued.

Bucky had never been gladder his name was early in the register. There were only four names before his and then he was taking his letter and heading back to his seat.

Weaver dismissed them and the whole class tore their envelopes open at once.

Bucky's eyes scanned over the page, heart kicking against his ribs. His mind scrambled back through the chart he'd memorized as a child. The line from one to ten with a five in the centre. Starting at one for the highest level dominants, then five for switches and on to ten for the highest level submissives.

High-level doms and subs made up maybe less than a single percentage of the population. Having a parent with a high level increased Bucky’s chances, of course, but it didn't have to mean -

Bucky stared at the number on the page and felt a roll of nausea so bad he had to clamp his mouth shut to keep from throwing up. Bile scoured the back of his throat. A one, just like his father.

He glanced over and Steve looked like Bucky felt. There was sweat already gathering on Steve's face. Wordlessly, Bucky folded up his paper and put it on Steve's desk. Steve hesitated and did the same.

Bucky looked at Steve's paper and back at him again, doing a double-take. Steve was a ten? His Steve, who’d challenged every asshole dom in the neighbourhood to a fight at least once? And then, on the tail of the thought, the impossible certainty that Steve was his.

They had played at it when they were children, Bucky pretending to be the dom and telling Steve what to do, but they grew out of it eventually and then Gina Spirelli kissed Bucky on the cheek in the fifth grade and Bucky had decided he and Steve were too old for that.

Only now it wouldn't be pretend, Steve would really be Bucky’s. And Steve wouldn't just do what Bucky told him, not if he really didn't want to. But what if he did want to? If he-

“Buck?” Steve flicked Bucky's forehead. “You in there, pal?”

“Quit being a jerk,” Bucky batted away Steve's hand.

Steve smiled, although it didn't reach his eyes.

“We gotta get to English,” Steve said, and Bucky nodded, still halfway in a daze.

It felt like something was unravelling inside him and suddenly he was unable to stop himself noticing Steve. The way he moved, the way the worn-thin cotton of his shirt showed the soft pinkness of his skin.

They sat down. The teacher was talking about some poet. Bucky couldn't focus enough to hear her. 

How had he held back these thoughts? Now they were spilling out of him, unfurling more and more until it felt like Bucky could hardly breathe for it.

Steve was chewing on his pencil. Steve chewed all his pencils in an almost methodical way. First gnawing at the soft metal of the erasers till they fell off, and then moving his focus to the pencil itself, where he would chew until the whole thing gave out and he was forced to start over.

Watching the wooden end of it dip into Steve's mouth - his pink lips shining, his straight white teeth - was torture. It seemed like everything Steve did made Bucky's blood rush south.

Steve pursed his lips and rested the pencil between them, frowning at the list of math problems they'd been set and Bucky was ignoring. Bucky snuck a hand under his desk and discreetly readjusted himself.

It was like that all day. And the day after. And after that for weeks. His head so full of Steve he could barely think.

Steve caught on pretty quick that something was wrong. And he put up with Bucky refusing to talk about it for a little longer than Bucky deserved.

Then, one Saturday morning, Steve knocked on the door while Bucky's ma was out with the girls at shul and his dad was out getting weekend drunk. Steve stood there in the doorway with his fists clenched.

“All right Buck, if you don't want to be friends you can just say so.”

“What?”

Steve strode into the apartment like he owned it, scowling, still wearing his coat even though it was well on its way to summer outside.

“If you're gonna keep ignoring me when I talk to you and gawking at me like something in Central Park Zoo then you can forget it,” Steve said.

“No! No, I…” Bucky felt his stomach clench up like he was about to be sick. He tried to put his hand on Steve's shoulder but Steve shrugged it off.

“I thought you were upset about your own result but I guess you were angry about mine.”

“No I love it!” Bucky said, to his own surprise.

“You love it?” Steve's voice was the kind you use when talking to someone who has clearly lost their mind.

“I mean. Now we match.”

Steve looked at him straight on, confused and angry, and it was all Bucky's stupid brain's stupid fault.

He wanted to get hold of Steve. To grab his coat or his hand and not feel like he wasn't too much of a worm to be allowed.

“Don't go,” he pleaded. His voice sounded tiny, terrified. But it was pathetic enough that Steve took pity on him.

“All right, Buck,” Steve said. “Then tell me what's going on.”

He wasn't so good at lying to Steve. Then again, saying nothing would just make it worse. And if he said what was really happening Steve would just pity him. So Bucky was lost. There was no way out that let him keep Steve.

The thought was like a weight that pulled him down into himself. He wanted Steve to touch him, but Steve shouldn't have to bring himself to touch Bucky when Bucky was having all of these thoughts about him.

“I'm sorry Stevie,” Bucky said. His voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. “I don't know what to say. I won't do it no more, I promise.”

And then Steve had hold of him and was pulling him into a fierce hug and Bucky's knees nearly gave out and Steve's hair was kind of in Bucky's mouth but it was okay. Bucky could breathe again and Steve was there and it would be okay.

Steve let out a shaky breath and Bucky did too and then his body did what it had been doing pretty much every time Steve was near him. And Bucky scrambled away but the damage was done.

“Oh.” Steve's voice was soft, almost a whisper.

“Jesus I'm so sorry, I didn't-”

“What if I wanted you to?” Steve asked.

“I don't-”

“I think about it, you know? About what it would be like with a dom who knew I could handle it, who wouldn't care how I look.”

Bucky damned near passed out. But he knew how to take a hint, so he got his hands on Steve's shirt and hauled him up into a kiss. Steve kissed him right back, fierce and hot, biting at Bucky's lips and tangling his hands tight in Bucky's hair.

“You handled rheumatic fever and a broken nose at the same time,” Bucky said, “pretty sure you can take a spanking without much trouble.”

And then it was like a runaway train, Bucky had Steve halfway out of his shirt before he'd really even noticed he was doing it, and Steve was the same, just as frantic and it seemed like it was doomed to be a disaster only somehow it wasn't, it was kind of miraculous instead.

They tumbled into Bucky's room where Steve stripped them both down to their briefs and handed his chastity key to Bucky as casually as if it were an apple. The key was on a long, thin chain.

“You don't have to take the cage off,” Steve told him, sitting on the bed. 

Steve was in Bucky’s bed and waiting for Bucky to touch him. Bucky stared at the key for a moment, awestruck, before putting it on, fastening the chain around his neck. Bucky felt the key tap against his chest as he moved and it sent a sharp, visceral thrill through his body.

“Do you want me to take the cage off?” Bucky asked.

Steve frowned at him. Right, doms probably didn't ask that stuff most of the time. Except Steve wasn't like any of the girls Bucky had been with. Steve would know if Bucky was lying, and might even guess when Bucky was dropping, and that would be too embarrassing.

“You have to tell me if you don't like something,” Bucky told him, “it messes with my head if I don't know if something is working or not.”

“Sure thing Buck. I wasn't mad at the idea, I was just-” Steve raked a hand through his hair, which fluffed up like the yellow feathers on a duckling.

“Just what?”

“My uh, you know,” Steve gestured vaguely in the direction of his dick, “doesn't always join in the party when it's supposed to.”

“How about you let me know if you need the cage off? And if it doesn't come up,” here Bucky wiggled his eyebrows, “it doesn't come up.”

“I think that'll work fine.”

“So, just so we both know, traffic light system is fine if you need it, and you can safeword out any time if you have a word you prefer. But like I said I need you to say if something isn't doing it for you. Even if it seems like I like it, I promise, if you don't want to be doing it then I don't want it either. And if you do like something, then I need to know that too.”

“Okay Buck, I can do that no problem. My safe word is barnacle, because I picked it out of a dictionary when I was thirteen and it made me laugh.”

And that was so cute that Bucky had to lean over the bed and kiss him again on account of how he could do that now, and Steve gasped and pulled Bucky down on top of him and Bucky could feel the warm metal of Steve's cage through his underwear.

Bucky had a clear visual image of what his own dick might look like rutting against the metal and against Steve's pale thighs and just about had a heart attack.

“Let me see,” Bucky said, and Steve lay back and let Bucky pull down his briefs.

Bucky had seen male chastity cages of course, and even Steve's before, in locker rooms or at the beach. But it was like seeing it for the first time, almost, looking at Steve in this new way. The metal rings of it gleamed, polished to a shine almost like a mirror, and the lock was a tiny thing, no bigger than a thumbprint.

“Jesus,” Bucky breathed, feeling his face go hot.

“Yeah?” Steve sounded almost shy.

Bucky kissed him loudly on the stomach and Steve grinned and then they were kissing again and Bucky kept his own underwear on even though he wasn't quite sure why.

Bucky's hands roamed Steve's smooth skin, over the sharp edges of his ribs and the soft curve of his ass. Steve made a soft noise as Bucky spread him open with both hands, pulling wide enough that he could imagine Steve's hole opening up a little.

Bucky pulled both cheeks together and pulled them sharply apart, far enough that Steve made a soft noise of pain.

“Do you like it when I hurt you?” Bucky asked.

“I love it, Buck,” Steve half whispered the answer into Bucky's shoulder. Bucky's dick twitched and Bucky could feel the tip of it get wet with pre.

“Yeah?” Bucky let go of one of Steve's ass cheeks so he could press his fingers against Steve's hole.

“You ever put these in dry?” Bucky asked. Rubbing his fingers over the rim.

“Ah! Uh, yeah, just one,” Steve said.

Bucky kept up steady circling pressure on Steve's hole until it gave in and opened up for him just enough to get to the second knuckle.

Steve flinched and hissed out a sharp breath through his teeth.

“How does it feel?” Bucky asked.

“It's tight it- ah- it hurts,” Steve writhed.

“You want more?”

“Yeah, god, please.”

Bucky pushed in, feeling Steve's body trying to clench down and force him out. Bucky got his finger all the way in and thrust it hard and Steve came up off the bed, panting.

“My good boy,” Bucky let him sit there with the pain, pushing in harder when Steve relaxed to keep him on his toes.

Eventually, Bucky's wrist started to ache from the awkward angle and he pulled his finger away and went to work on Steve's nipples, biting and sucking until they were so red and sore and sensitive that Steve hissed if Bucky so much as breathed on them.

“I need,” Steve gasped, and the words grabbed Bucky's attention like nothing else in the world. He looked up from Steve's chest and held his gaze.

“What do you need sweetheart?”

“My hole, it’s-” Steve looked away, blushing all the way down to his chest.

“Okay, up on your knees Stevie, let me see.”

Steve got onto all fours, shivering a little.

“It aches, it feels-” Steve fidgeted.

Bucky leaned over Steve and ran a hand through Steve's hair, which was damp with sweat.

“Show me your hole,” Bucky said.

Steve struggled with it for a minute then got himself settled with his face buried in the pillow and both hands pulling his ass open so Bucky could see.

Steve's hole was twitching, the muscle tight and then loose again. Steve's breaths hitched as it tightened.

Bucky rubbed a thumb over it to feel it move, pressed in shallowly when Steve's hole was slack and felt the muscle clench tight.

“Ow! Oh, ow that hurts,” Steve told him

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it's, god I feel…”

Bucky pressed a little harder and Steve moaned, pulling his ass open more for Bucky so the thumb stretched him wider.

“You want me to fuck you like this?” 

“Yeah! God, please, please,” Steve was babbling.

“Got anything slick?”

“I got vaseline in the drawer,” Steve said, gesturing to his bedside cabinet. 

Bucky took off his underpants before he fetched the jelly and rubbed it over his prick. He pressed some into Steve's hole with his thumb, smoothing over it, and then a little more just in case. Bucky wasn't going to stretch Steve out, not for this, but he wouldn't let Steve get injured.

Bucky knew that he'd be getting a plug to keep Steve open and ready for him later, but for now they both needed it to hurt.

Steve whined when he felt the head of it against his hole.

“I'm gonna fuck you,” Bucky told him.

“Yeah, god, do it please-” Steve's voice cut out as Bucky started to push in.

Steve was trembling, his ass was still twitching only this time it was around Bucky's dick and Bucky could really feel the spasm of the muscle right around the head and then sliding down the shaft.

Steve made a shocked whimpering keening noise and went so completely limp that Bucky had to hold Steve up by the hips to keep the angle.

“How do you feel?” Bucky asked.

“It hurts so much.” Steve's voice had a dreamlike quality as if Steve were drunk or stoned out of his mind.

“You like it?”

“Yeah Buck, god, it's so good. You have to come in me.”

“Of course I'm going to come in you. Aren't you being a good boy and letting me fuck you?”

“Yes sir.”

The feeling that rushed over Bucky when Steve called him that was incredible. Bucky felt pleasure and satisfaction right down to his bones.

“That was so good,” Bucky told him, “You're so good for me.”

One of Steve's hands reached back and kind of gently patted Bucky’s hip and Bucky leaned in close to kiss the nape of Steve’s neck. Steve smelled like soap and like clean sweat and like himself, under it all.

He fucked Steve's hole a few more times, and then pulled out a little. Steve's hole was red and seemed to be twitching more than ever.

“Please sir, please, I need it.”

“I promised I'd come inside, I'm just gonna look a little.”

Bucky pushed back in slowly, watching the red rim swallow up his cock. Vaseline oozed out as Bucky pushed in and Bucky rubbed the jelly back into Steve's skin.

“There we are,” Bucky soothed, fucking in long slow strokes that made Steve tremble under him.

Bucky gave a sharp thrust, hard enough that Bucky could hear his balls smack against Steve's ass.

“It hurts!” Steve writhed, “it hurts!”

“Should I stop?” Bucky teased.

“No! No, please!”

Bucky shoved in hard again and Steve almost knocked Bucky off him with a full body shudder.

“You want me to fuck you like this?”

“Harder, please, I need you to.”

Bucky thrust harder and harder, letting himself fuck like he wanted, the rubbed-raw skin of Steve's hole was so hot and the spasms felt like they were wringing Bucky’s cock dry. He got a hand between Steve's legs to palm over the cage, the thin metal so hot against his fingers.

Steve had warned Bucky that he might not get hard, but no one had warned Bucky that he might like it that way, it made him feel so powerful. And it was impossible to think Steve didn't want him, he was whining and shivering and panting, begging Bucky for his cock. 

Bucky stroked a hand over Steve's balls and tugged experimentally, just to see what would happen.

What happened was that Steve lost his mind, panting hard, clawing at the sheets.

“Sir! plea-” Steve barely got past the first word as Bucky tugged on them again and again, feeling Steve trembling under him and the walls of Steve's hole clenching tight.

Bucky slowed to let Steve breathe.

“No!” Steve gasped, “don’t!”

Bucky tried to pull his hand away but then Steve's own hand was there putting it back.

“Don't stop, don't- I can't- I'll drop if you stop,” Steve pleaded, sounding fearful.

Bucky tugged Steve's balls tighter and Steve melted into the covers and Bucky came all at once. Filling Steve's hole and thrusting until it hurt to keep going. He pulled out carefully, still toying with Steve's balls.

“Aren't you so perfect, telling me just what you need? I loved it so much when you told me,” Bucky said

“Yeah?” 

“Of course, can't you feel it?”

Steve's breath hitched. Bucky turned Steve onto his belly and kissed him.

“Don't stop yet,” Steve said.

“Of course I won't,” Bucky gave a sharp tug for emphasis. “Spread your thighs and lift them up so I can see your pretty hole.”

Steve hooked his hands under his knees and pulled his thighs open and up, lifting his knees up to his chest. The sight of it was incredible, Steve's balls in Bucky's hand now as red as his ass, everything still wet with Vaseline.

Bucky kissed one of Steve's feet and Steve laughed and kicked out at his head until Bucky stopped. Bucky grinned and laid a wet, smacking kiss on Steve's thigh.

“Are you gonna show me my cum?” Bucky asked.

“If you want?”

“I want to see it, show me.”

Steve took in a deep breath and let it out slow and then there it was, cum leaking out of Steve's ass in sticky white gobs. Bucky didn't even have to think. One second he was looking down at Steve's hole and the next thing he had pulled Steve's balls up so he could lick into it.

The cum in his mouth was bitter and tasted of salt and had a strange viscous texture that was a mix of the come itself and petroleum jelly. Bucky dug his tongue in deep to get it all out and then pulled back to look at Steve.

Steve's face was a picture of pleasure and pain and shock, his chest heaving and his mouth open wide. Bucky leaned over and kissed him, making Steve taste him. The angle was awkward. Bucky still had his hands on Steve's balls, and Steve couldn't quite coordinate himself well enough to kiss back, so they just ended up vaguely pressing their open mouths together.

Eventually, Steve's breathing evened out and he seemed to collect himself well enough to start trading slow kisses.

“Okay Buck, you can let go of, uh, you know,”’ Steve said. Bucky thought about teasing Steve to say it out loud but his wrist was starting to cramp so he let go without a fight.

“You're a wonder,” Bucky told him.

“Yeah you too that was… way better than I was expecting.”

“You saying you thought I'd be bad in bed?”

“No! I was just worried I'd be really bad at it.”

“You told me what felt good and what felt bad and you did take it so well,” Bucky said, running a protective hand through Steve's hair. “That's everything I wanted.”

“It was, um, my first- you know. My first time for real as a sub.”

“I am pretty sure you'd have told me if you'd done that before.” Bucky ruffled Steve's hair and grinned,

“So am I your submissive now?” Steve said it carefully, Bucky could hear that Steve was trying not to put too much pressure on the question.

For a minute Bucky could see it all laid out in front of them. Getting Steve's collar and signing their contract and taking Stevie home, to a home they could live in together - away from everyone else.

High levels paired off early anyways, so no one would mind it much. And then they could just be like this, the two of them, like it had been all along.

“Yeah, Stevie, you're mine as long as you want to be.”

“So forever?” Steve had a big dopey grin on his face. Bucky had put that smile there.

“If that's how long you want.” Bucky kissed Steve's nose and Steve squirmed, embarrassed but fond.

“I'm gonna take such good care of you,” Steve said.

“Isn't that my job?” Bucky asked.

“No. I take care of you, and you take care of me, till the end of the line.”

“The end of the line, huh? You are such a sap,” Bucky teased.

“Yeah but I'm your sub now so you'll have to put up with it.”

“Guess I will.”


	2. The Retake

“I forget to eat. I forget to sleep. One time I even forgot I needed to use the can and damn near pissed in my jeans,” Bucky told her, “Steve's always looking out for me, and I'm not saying he doesn't have to it’s just…”

“Just?” the therapist prompted.

“I miss looking after him.”

“It’s important to you to look after Steve.”

“Yeah, I mean… Back in Brooklyn- I mean, when we were both younger, after Steve's ma died I had the whole apartment kitted out for him. The works.”

Back in Brooklyn, Bucky had redesigned their entire place. Every room back then had hooks and chains and lengths of rope. The carpeting had been stripped out and then Bucky spent hours on his hands and knees sanding and smoothing the boards and painting coats of varnish until the floor was safe to kneel on and easy to clean.

The boards also made the floor less comfortable, which was better for certain punishments. Bucky’d kept floggers and canes and switches all in their proper place too.

Steve had always been prone to sickness, and his energy was low, so the things Bucky needed of him had been calibrated for his health. There were cushions everywhere for him to kneel, and blankets so that he could be naked and still keep warm, and sugary snacks.

“Are there things you could do for now for him?” the therapist asked.

“I don't know. He still has his collar, but he hasn't done any of the things that used to mean he wanted me to take care of him. Sometimes I think maybe I'm not his dom, like maybe his real dom fell off that train and I'm not who he needs anymore.”

“Do you think Steve feels that way?”

“I don't know, maybe sometimes?”

It had been months since Bucky pulled Steve out of the water and in that time Bucky still hadn't quite worked out how to be a real person, let alone a good dominant. He still had so much Hydra programming and it was beginning to look like some of it might not go away.

“Has he done anything to make you feel that way?”

“It's only natural, right? I mean, if I can't remember to brush my teeth how am I meant to take care of someone else.”

“A lot of people find it easier to look after other people than themselves, no matter whether they're a dom or a sub or anything else.”

Bucky thought of Steve's ma working herself to death for Steve and supposed the therapist had a point.

“So you think I should try doing something for him?”

“I think that's a lovely idea,” she said, sounding as smug as she always did when Bucky had talked himself into doing something.

And so it was that Bucky found himself making pancakes for Steve in the communal kitchen because Steve had eaten all the eggs on their floor and Bucky was making him breakfast in bed goddamn it.

Only it wasn't working and the other Avengers were also there, making all their own breakfasts and getting in the way no matter where they were standing and eventually it took so long that Steve came in and it was ruined already.

“What's your level?” Tony asked Steve, “We're all dying to know.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky could see Steve swallow. Steve's left hand came up to scrub through his hair and his right clenched into a tight fist. His face seemed to twist a little.

“Don't listen to him,” Natasha said, “he's being a jackass.”

“You're only saying that cause you sussed it out with your spy powers,” Tony said, “the rest of us want answers.”

“It's classified,” Steve said at last, although he didn't meet anyone's eyes when he said it.

“You wouldn't let a little thing like the official state secrets act interfere with our friendship,” Tony said, making puppy-dog eyes at Steve.

Steve’s laugh had a nervous edge to it.

The conversation pulled at Bucky somehow. He had a memory of pushing Steve up against a brick wall, the orange stone and Steve's yellow hair clashing horribly. Steve shouting a little as Bucky pulled down his pants and brought his hand down hard over Steve's bare backside.

Steve was bratty and stubborn and didn't know what was good for him, but everyone on the street knew he was high level with how Bucky doted on him, kept him floating at all times like he needed.

“He's a ten,” Bucky said. Then wondered if he'd got it wrong with how everyone stared at him when he said it.

“I… I remember him as a ten,” Bucky said. He stared down at his feet.

“I don't think that's-” Bruce was saying, but Steve cut through.

“No it’s-” Steve paused, “That's right buck.”

The room was silent.

“But the serum... The army...” Tony sounded lost. 

“Turns out you can get all the orders you want in the army,” Steve's voice grated over Bucky’s ears and sent a wave of horrible shivers through his spine.

Bucky almost wanted to beg him to stop. That’s what Hydra had told him to do. To submit. To kneel. It was almost an instinct to drop to his knees but he managed to stop himself. He was a dom, he should act like one.

“Is he okay?” someone was saying.

There was a roaring in Bucky’s head, something building, and he knew intellectually it was a drop but it felt more like a wave had picked him up and thrown him.

At the core of Bucky was an iron thing, and to make him into the winter soldier Hydra had to break it. To chip and scrape and hack at it until it snapped because Bucky couldn’t make himself give in.

Hydra had taken his dominance, the implacable solid thing in him, and worn it as thin as sugar paper. That's what being a dominant was for Bucky now, a confusing mix of strength and brittleness.

Bucky had always said “go there” “do this” with as much conviction as he could, but there was no force to stop Steve laughing in his face or walking out of the room. When Steve was in his space he was pliant and soft and malleable - Bucky was the most likely one to break.

Bucky was breaking now. People were moving around but he couldn’t focus on who.

“I'll leave him to your no-doubt capable hands,” someone said, and Bucky was pretty sure it was Tony.

The door clicked and then they were alone, him and Steve, standing in the kitchen.

“Can we go to our floor?” Bucky asked.

“Of course.”

The elevator door opened and they walked inside. Bucky pushed the button and Steve stood quietly next to him, head down a little.

Steve’s strength was absolute. The weight of the world rested on his shoulders and Steve let it press him into the ground rather than snapping under it.

“I didn’t know you remembered my sub level,” Steve said.

Bucky shrugged. Of course Steve was a ten, if the numbers went higher he’d have had that instead, he was the most powerful thing Bucky had ever known.

“I remembered… orange walls, spanking you in an alleyway,” Bucky said.

Steve laughed. “You did that a lot, I was a brat.”

“Not anymore?”

“Well ain’t that for you to find out?” Steve's smile was wicked.

“I don't know if I'm ready for…” Bucky hesitated.

“We'll do whatever you want, Buck, I promise,” Steve said, “whatever you need.”

Their floor was just as it had been. It had an unfortunate red/white/blue theme that Tony had decided on, and that they hadn’t bothered to change, and too many windows. Bucky's brain was buzzing, scanning the space over and over.

“Buck?” Steve was in front of him, holding Bucky’s arm with both hands, thumbs smoothing over the skin.

“Let’s go to our room.” 

Steve didn't ask which room counted as theirs, just walked to his own and trusted Bucky to follow.

Steve’s space was warmer than the living room and somehow more familiar than even Bucky's room. There were bright, colourful paintings and the bed was oak and had crumpled white sheets. Things were piled up on the desk, papers and food wrappers computer paraphernalia. The desk chair had a precarious pile of books balanced on it. 

There was a television on the wall but Bucky had never heard Steve listening to it.

A lot of submissives would have had things for themselves there, too. Trick cuffs or manacles, maybe, dildos usually.

Steve's room had nothing like that. Bucky didn't even spot any vaseline. Some people might have assumed the higher level subs needed more things to go down, and that was largely true, but the things Steve needed were big and confusing and not anything he could have put together for himself. High-level subspace took a lot of time and patience to get into and was a constant effort to maintain.

Bucky’s memory was fairly shoddy on the specifics but he knew enough about subspace, and he'd had the awkward talk with his therapist where she filled in the gaps. Apparently, Bucky’s level was public knowledge and his therapist had been worried about top drop. With good reason, since that was pretty obviously what was happening now.

Steve stood in the middle of the room, waiting, letting Bucky decide the way the thing in him needed to.

“I don’t know what I need,” Bucky said.

“When you dropped before it was usually because you thought I wasn't getting something I needed from you,” Steve said, “but I couldn’t always guess why it happened.”

“Has anyone put you under since you got here?” Bucky asked, the question out of his mouth before he’d known he was going to ask it.

“Not really, I haven't dropped so it wasn't an emergency. I didn't want-” Steve pauses. He looks a little embarrassed.

“Tell me,” Bucky said, letting it be a command.

“I'm not an idiot, if I'd dropped of course I'd have found someone, but I didn't want anyone else. My ma didn't marry again after dad either, so I guess we're not much different there.”

Bucky stepped in slowly, telegraphing the move, and gripped Steve’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting his head so their eyes were level.

“Because you're mine,” Bucky told Steve, “is that right?”

Steve nodded, eyes already turning a little glassy, and Bucky kissed him, still holding his head still, holding him, grounding him. Steve kissed back easily, trembling a little, giving the kiss a kind of frantic energy.

Bucky bit Steve's lip hard enough to taste blood and felt Steve's whole body shake against him, his breath hissing out in a warm rush. Bucky drew back to run his thumb over the brilliant red mark he’d put there.

“Strip,” Bucky told him.

Steve's hands were shaking as he prised off his shirt, wrestled awkwardly with his shoes, and drew down his zipper, not rushing but not teasing either. Bucky had learned by this point that modern men’s underwear looked a lot like what he'd seen women wearing back in the old days, it was hard to move for Calvin Klein ads after all, but Bucky hadn't prepared for the sight of Steve Rogers in his white cotton panties.

“Aren't you just the prettiest thing?” Bucky crooned.

Steve blushed and Bucky watched it spread right down to his belly like ink on wet paper. 

“Quit teasing,” Steve pleaded.

Bucky hooked his thumbs under the waistband of Steve's panties and pulled them all the way down until Steve could step out of them.

“I'm just taking my time,” Bucky told him, “You know I'm going to take care of you, there's no need to fret.”

Bucky catalogued Steve's body from his ears, which were bright pink and stuck out just a little, to his haphazardly cut toenails. Steve had been walking around barefoot in the apartment before he'd put on shoes and Bucky could see that the arches of his feet were dirty.

Steve had a mole the size of a penny on the inside of his thigh and his pubic hair was a wiry mess that stuck out in all directions - half because Steve had never bothered trimming it and half because all the running around in skin-tight clothes tended to make it stand on end.

Steve's cock sat in its cage. It was a standard metal submissive cage of the kind that was considered old fashioned these days, though not the one he’d worn back when they were teenagers. What surprised him was the urethral tube. Most subs Bucky had seen when they were growing up didn't bother.

Bucky thought about asking for the key, but he wasn't sure it would be that kind of session yet. And besides, Steve looked beautiful like that. Like he'd been waiting all that time. Bucky wanted to savour that a little more.

Bucky walked around Steve, cataloging him, comparing what he was seeing to his blurry memories.

“Do you wear a plug?” Bucky asked, peering at Steve’s ass and feeling something was amiss.

Steve shook his head and Bucky raised his eyebrows. Bucky had bought the plug for Steve somewhere between their first time and their second and Bucky had barely seen Steve without it since.

Steve had always loved it when Bucky had plugged him up.

“I miss it, I guess I got used to needing to take it out for missions. I can start wearing one again if you want?” Steve sounded unsure.

Bucky stepped close and kissed his perfect pink mouth.

“I want you to feel good,” Bucky told him. “Why don't you get the plug and I'll put it in?”

Steve blew out a shaky breath and nodded.

It took Steve a while to find it, digging through his bedside table and his chest of drawers and under the bed until he eventually found it at the bottom of a clear plastic storage box.

There was lubricant there too and Steve grabbed that too. Bucky got Steve onto his hands and knees on the bed and his hand on Steve's shoulder, pushing down until Steve's head was flat on the bed and his ass was up.

“I'm gonna put it in and then I'm going to spank you,” Bucky told him, “make you feel it.”

Steve shivered all over.

“Show me where to put it,” Bucky told him.

Steve reached back with both hands to spread himself open. Bucky kissed one cheek of Steve's ass, then ran his tongue over Steve’s hole.

Steve gave a soft grunt and Bucky kept going, licking over the rim and then prising Steve’s hole open with his fingers so he could fit his tongue inside.

“Bucky,” Steve was panting under him but firm, insistent, “please. Please.”

Bucky licked and sucked at the rim, till Steve's hole felt loose and soft and wet as a girl and Bucky’s tongue began to ache. He coated his fingers in thick lubricant and fed them into Steve's hole, which twitched and tightened greedily around them.

Steve’s cock, still in its cage, began to drip steadily onto the sheets and Steve was taking huge gasping breaths.

“Yeah I… please,” Steve begged. “God, please, I need it so bad. I need you.” Steve seemed almost unaware he was speaking, he was so out of it. “You have to. Please, please.”

“You want me to fuck you before I plug you?” Bucky asked, running his hand over Steve’s caged dick and feeling how hot the metal had become, how Steve’s dick was pressed tight against the bars of his cage.

“Please-” Steve barely managed to get the word out before gasping into the sheets. “I need it, I need it so bad.”

Bucky unzipped his fly and pulled himself out, not bothering to take off his jeans, jerking himself just a few times to feel it, letting Steve see him do it.

“Are you sure?” Bucky asked, “I could jerk myself off, make you watch me do it and not let you touch.”

Steve whined and spread his ass open so Bucky could see his hole, wet with spit and lube, gaping.

“Please put it in,” Steve begged, “I missed you so bad, I feel so empty.”

Bucky’s heart was in his throat at that and he pressed his lips to the back of Steve's neck, Steve's hair tickling his nose.

“Okay,” Bucky said.

He let his teeth bite into Steve’s skin and Steve's whole body trembled and went still under Bucky’s, soft and submitting.

Bucky ran the head of his cock over Steve’s hole to draw it out, to hear him whimper, before pushing in a little. Just the head of it, giving Steve almost what he needed.

Steve writhed and tried to push back, tried to get Bucky in deeper, and Bucky pinned him between his thighs to hold him still. Normally, Bucky would have pulled right back out for that, for trying to get more than Bucky wanted to give him. But Steve seemed barely aware of what he was doing and Bucky didn’t like to punish Steve for things he couldn't help.

“It's okay,” Bucky told him, “I've got you.”

Bucky pushed in slowly, letting himself feel it, how good and slick and hot Steve was inside. His first thrust made Steve's hole clench almost too-tight around his dick and Bucky drew in a sharp breath and held it.

Steve was almost sobbing, his hands were clenching and unclenching in the sheets and his skin gleamed with sweat. 

“Fuck,” Steve hissed.

“That's my good boy,” Bucky said, running his metal and his real hands over Steve’s skin, feeling the tremble of his muscles and hitch of his breaths.

It took longer than usual for Bucky to come. His body hadn't quite remembered how to do this with someone else. The usual cues from jerking off - his hand speeding up, the pulsing of his cock against his fingers, those were gone.

It was still the single most erotic moment, possibly of his whole life and definitely for as long as his own memories held out. 

Eventually, his balls drew up tight and he could barely catch his breath before he came. He drew it out as long as he could before pulling himself away. His dick felt still too sensitive to put back in his jeans so he left it hanging awkwardly out of his fly while he caught his breath.

“Don't let it leak out,” Steve said, and how could Bucky deny him?

Steve's hole gaped open just a little so that the plug slid in even easier than Bucky had, the thin tip of it getting Steve ready for the thick bulb that stretched Steve wide enough to make him whimper, so sensitive inside. Bucky licked at the drops that had leaked out while he was fiddling with the plug and laid a wet, smacking kiss on Steve's ass.

Steve laughed—or did his best approximation of a laugh given that he was still catching his breath.

“I'm gonna spank you now okay?” Bucky said.

Steve nodded and let himself be pulled around until he was over Bucky’s lap.

The first blow was like fireworks in Bucky's head. Steve's warm skin under his hand.

“You like it?” Bucky asked, smoothing his fingers over Steve's ass and feeling a soft hair there, the involuntary muscle twitches. Asking came like a reflex, like it was absolutely essential to ask even if Bucky couldn't quite remember why.

“Yeah Buck I… I think about it all the time. You spanking me. Letting me feel it.”

Bucky spanked him again. “I love doing this to you,” he said. “You're so gorgeous like this.”

Bucky started with softer smacks before he began to bring his hand down harder over Steve's ass, the skin turning bright pink in an instant.

He let his hand come down where it wanted. Sharp over Steve's tailbone or sometimes even lower, catching at his balls.

Whenever a hit connected with Steve's balls he whined high in his throat and seemed to be squirming away from the blow.

Bucky reached down and rolled them roughly in his hand and Steve let out a small sharp cry.

“You want me to be careful with these?” Bucky asked, squeezing just a little.

Steve shook his head.

“No?” Bucky feigned surprise, “doesn't it hurt?”

Bucky squeezed just a tiny bit tighter and Steve’s whole body shuddered and tried to curl away from the pain.

“Ah!” Steve whined and his hips thrust helplessly, which tugged at his balls even more.

Bucky let go and Steve panted as he was repositioned in Bucky's lap with his balls fully exposed as Bucky bought his hand down sharply.

Steve cried out and squirmed and sobbed as Bucky's hand came down again and again over the plug in his ass and his reddening balls.

Every few smacks Bucky would roll them roughly his hand again. Sometimes with the cold fingers of his metal hand.

By the time Steve's balls were nearly purple and his ass was cherry red Bucky felt a kind of calm and quiet peace settle over him.

Bucky was giving Steve what he needed. Steve needed to be taken care of. He needed someone to fuck him full and plug him up and spank him over and over.

Steve belonged to himself. That was for certain, and Bucky couldn't argue otherwise. But he had given himself over to Bucky for this so that Bucky could look after him.

Bucky kept going, each blow making Steve shake and gasp until eventually, Steve settled down. No longer fighting the pain but feeling it, riding the sharp edges of it.

Steve was in the space now, Bucky knew. They were in it together, sharing the quiet restful feeling of it. It felt so good to share that place, like coming home to somewhere Bucky thought had been destroyed.

He stopped the spanking but kept his flesh hand over Steve's balls, squeezing enough to keep Steve there and keep himself there too.

They stayed like that for a while, the pair of them still hazy and floating a little.

“Do you want to come?” Bucky asked, hand running over Steve's cage. The head of Steve's dick was pushed right up against the metal.

Steve was quiet for a second. Considering.

“Not this time,” Steve answered.

“Okay, can I play with it a little?”

“Y-yeah, just don't go overboard.”

“Can I play with the tube?”

“Okay.”

Steve hissed as Bucky unscrewed the tip of the urethral tube from the cage and began sliding it in and out, fucking into Steve's cock and watching the tip open up and swallow it down.

“You didn't used to have this,” Bucky said.

“They took my old cage when they defrosted me so Nat had to take me to buy a new one. Apparently, they've added a few more things as standard than they used to.”

“Do you like it?” Bucky asked, pulling the tube free and pushing it all the way back in.

“Yeah! Ah- ah! It's good, although I think I'm gonna come if you do that again.”

Bucky screwed the tube back in and filed the knowledge away for later. When they first presented, Bucky had wanted to play with the idea of denying Steve, getting him riled up and begging, not allowed to touch himself without Bucky's say-so. But that hadn’t planned out. Steve's sickness had meant he didn't always get hard—or stay hard—so the kinds of release that got him out of his head and into subspace had to focus on other things.

Things would probably be a little different now, Bucky thought idly. They could try that if they wanted.

And Bucky realized abruptly that he was already assuming they'd keep doing this forever.

“Are you still-” Bucky swallowed. “I know we never talked about it, but you're still… are you mine, still? For real.”

“You know I am Buck. I've been yours since I punched you in the nose in first grade.”

“I was trying to help you!”

“I had him on the ropes.”

“He had your head in the toilet!”

“Well maybe I planned it that way, did you think of that?”

It felt so good to fall back into an old argument, finding a piece of them that was still just the same.

“I didn't think of it, Steve, because it's just about the dumbest thing I ever heard,” Bucky said.

“What? You never heard yourself talk?” Steve was grinning from ear to ear.

“Very mature.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky squirmed his hands under Steve's armpits and tickled him mercilessly until Steve managed to wrestle free and pin Bucky against the bed.

“Ha! Now the tickled becomes the tickler!” Steve crowed, scrubbing his hands down Bucky's ribs where he was most ticklish of all until Bucky was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.

“Uncle!” Bucky yelled.

Steve pulled back a little, ready to start again if Bucky tried any funny business. When no funny business was tried, Steve settled himself on Bucky's chest with his head tucked under Bucky's chin. It took more coordination than it used to when Steve was smaller, and it was far less comfortable than it used to be, but neither of them was admitting it.

“I missed you,” Steve said, not looking at Bucky so the words were kind of muffled.

“Yeah?”

“Every day, all I could think of was how much you'd like the future. But I guess it turned out you were already there, and not liking it after all.”

Bucky kissed Steve's hair.

“I have to say I'm liking it plenty right now,” Bucky said

“It’s a lot better since you showed up.”

“Can't say I disagree.” Bucky pulled Steve tighter against him, feeling a nameless emotion rise up in him. “God I just- I love you.”

“Love you too Buck, to the end of the line.”

“Sap.”


End file.
